100 Chronicles of Fax
by AnikaandAj
Summary: All the way from when Fang came back, to when Max first attempted cooking, to when they escaped from the school, they were there for each other. 100 drabble prompts based around the lovely Max and Fang and all of their adventures.
1. The Reunion

**Aj: I guess it was inevitable that I start a drabble story. I just have too many ideas in my head that I can't seem to let go of. This story is going to have 100 one-shots in it for whenever I think of a new idea to write about. Feel free to send me ideas in the comments. Until then, enjoy.**

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**Prompt:** What really happened when Fang came back.

"You left." He had snuck up behind me in the forest I had surrounded myself in. The original intent had been to be alone, but he had never seemed to care about what I wanted. When Dylan's head had popped up, horrorstricken, and Nudge had squealed in delight, screaming his name over and over again in a maddening chant, I had taken that as my cue to leave.

"I came back." I still faced away from him, my back resting against the rough bark of a tree. I chose to ignore him, closing my eyes and basking in the few rays of sunlight filtering through the overhead of the dense forest. I didn't trust myself to answer him immediately. I knew I would either start screaming or break down. Both options were emotions I didn't want to share with _him_.

Not after seventy two days of abandonment.

"After you left." My voice was flat, cold enough to bring an early winter. He shuffled behind me, crunching leaves and twigs in the process.

"Max, I didn't mean to—"

I burst up like a rocket, anger coursing through my veins as I finally turned to face him, my fists balled and my eyes screaming murder.

"You didn't mean to?" I scoffed, taking a step closer to him. "What, did you suddenly just inherit a voice inside your head that mind controlled you to fly off and buddy up with my clone, then come back, act like nothing happened, and expect me to be okay with it, only to leave _again _right after Angel…after we lost Angel? No, that was all _you_!" Looks like I chose the path of yelling,

I watched as his impassive face morphed into a sympathetic gaze for a moment before turning into an expression of anger. In other circumstances I would have compared him to a transformer.

"I didn't have a choice! I had a target on my back which meant a target would be on the flock's back! On yours! I wasn't about to sit around and watch you die because of me!" He defended, his voice rising with every syllable. If we weren't miles away from the house the flock had been staying in, I knew five mutant bird kids who would think we were going to kill each other. Hell, it was still likely.

"Are you new to the game or are you just stupid? We've had a target on our backs since the day we were born. The only reason we've stayed alive this long is because we've stayed together. Or did you forget that when you were traipsing around with my clone—"

"Her names Maya," Fang growled, more feral than I had ever seen, "And she's dead."

What, did he expect me to feel guilty? I held my resolve, my arms crossed firmly as I stared him down. I wasn't about to apologize for my replacement. I wasn't about to forgive him for putting me through so much crap and not giving me a say in any of it.

No, he couldn't make me.

"Is that why you're back then?" I asked after a long pause, "My replacement got wasted so you decided to give up the hero game and come crawling back?"

My biting remark ignited a fury in his eyes I had only seen before at the school when he would stare down White Coats who tried to take me or Iggy.

Now it was directed at me.

"When are you going to get it through your thick skull that she wasn't your replacement?"

"When it starts being true." He came closer to me, taking wide strides that made me uncomfortable. His wings were still tucked in, shrouded by his windbreaker, but I could still imagine the angel of death coming to collect.

"Maya was never your replacement because nobody could replace you. Who else you drive me this _mad_?"

I don't get it. Was he trying to be sweet or insulting?

"So irreplaceable that you had to leave and not even say goodbye?" I lifted my chin up, setting my eyes in stone, before looking up at him. He left me and treated me like garbage with only a note to show for it. I'll be damned if he saw even a flicker of weakness.

Because I'm Maximum Ride. I'm never weak.

"If I had I wouldn't have been able to leave." His voice had softened slightly. I hoped he was dying inside from guilt.

"You mean three times? Once after Ari, once after leaving a crappy note, and then another after the little girl I practically raised _died_."

It was the first time I had said the '_d_' word. For seventy two days I had refused to acknowledge my failure to protect my baby. For one thousand seven hundred and twenty eight hours I had made it my main priority to find her and make whoever was responsible for taking her pay. Now, six million two hundred and twenty eight thousand seconds later, I felt like crap.

"I should have stayed with you then." He consented, lowering his gaze as his eyes grew twenty shades darker.

"So why didn't you?" My scathing tone had withered away, now soft and weary.

"You had Dylan. I figured you didn't need me." I gaped at him, shocked and frustrated and angry beyond belief at him consistently choosing the worst possible moments to be an insecure baby.

"Are you crazy?! If you even think about blaming this on Dylan I will rip your throat out and make you swallow it! How many times do I have to tell you that he didn't matter?"

"Is that why you…how would you put it? _'Sucked face'_ with him?" There was a triumphant superiority in his voice, but he wasn't smiling. His eyes were dark, filled with pain and the poison of his own regrets.

I nearly choked on thin air.

"You weren't exactly discreet about it, Max." He answered my unspoken question, not even attempting to mask his murderously jealous demeanor. I glared at him, remembering that day in Paris where I had finally given in to Dylan's constant pestering. And then later screamed into my pillow for what could have been a year from all my pent up frustration at the world.

"I'm not going to say sorry." After what seemed like hours of silence, that was the best I could come up with.

I breathed in, "You left and without warning you waltz right back in with a group of replacements that you spared no time in collecting, one being my _clone_! This happens to be shortly after the flock, my family, kicked me to the curb. So you know what, I'm _not_ sorry. It's not like I sold my soul. I was hurt and angry and hell, even vulnerable. If someone had told me to dip my arm in acid I would have considered it!"

Birds flapped away overhead, startled by my outburst. I longed to join them at this moment and get away from yelling at my best friend turned boyfriend turned abandoner turned…I don't even know who he was anymore.

"I know. Otherwise he's be lying in a ditch somewhere." He was only half joking, that I could tell.

"What are you doing here, Fang?"

Until now, I had been too blinded by anger to really look at him. His unkempt black hair was longer, almost as long as it was before the makeover in New York so long ago. There were scuff marks along his clothes, so discolored with dirt that they no longer looked black. Besides being thinner, not much had changed.

Although with proper leadership (Ahem, me) he wouldn't look like a second rate hobo.

"I came back. You're right, we need each other. Now more than ever."

"_No_." My abrupt refusal surprised him, his eyebrows drawing up in confusion. "No, I'm not going back into my—our lives just so you can leave again. Three times is more than enough." I was verging on hysterics, though I refused to cry. He wasn't worth my tears.

"I'm not going to leave. Never again, I promise." His voice was earnest, full of conviction. Too bad I was too far gone to believe him.

"Sorry, but your promises aren't exactly reliable."

It was my murderous gaze that kept him from attempting to step closer, even though once or twice I had seen his attempt to reach for my hand, only to draw back at the last second.

"Then let me prove it. You can hate me, you can ignore me, you can push me off a cliff with my wings tucked in and I still won't leave. Not unless you ask me to." I bit my lip, looking up into his obsidian orbs, shining bright with hope. I hated him. I hated him for not making me hate him.

"Are you giving me permission to push you off a cliff?" I guess I have a habit of ruining moments. I never was good with that stuff. Must be why I always ran away when Fang kissed me.

"Do you ever shut up?" He threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. To prove his point, I was about to reply before he stopped me by looking me dead in the eye.

"Remember what I told you in my letter? I would wait twenty years and more for you. There was never any chance of me replacing you or forgetting you because I still love you and I'm never going to stop loving you."

I now knew why Fang had never shown emotion. He had been storing it all up throughout the years, waiting for this moment to pour it all into his declaration of love.

Officially he had never told me he loved me. I had never counted when he wrote it in the letter because that was a piece of crap.

A few months ago if he had said that to me I would have happily said it back. I might not have even run away at first. It would be happy and magical and there would probably be freaking doves because why not. Now…everything had changed. To survive and stay strong, to hold it all together for the flock I had had to build up my walls, bottle up my emotions, and trap away my heart in a cage of iron. He had aroused a plethora of trust issues that just couldn't be solved with a heartfelt speech. No, it just wouldn't work.

"Yeah," I began, "Well I don't love you."

And I meant it.

"I know."

And he meant it.

"But that doesn't mean that I'm not going to stop fighting. I'm here to stay and that means I have a lot of time to work on cheesy mix tapes and sappy apologies. That is, if I'm allowed."

I fought back a smile. I was still mad at him, still reminded of all the suffering he had put me through, but at the same time the dream I had been having for the last seventy two days was a reality and that made me happy.

"As absolutely revolting as that sounds, its not up to me." I shot back, sticking my hands in the warm pockets of my jeans. He raised his eyebrow, silently asking why.

"Ever since you left and the flock reunited, I've been attempting to be less of a dictator. It's not as fun, but that means the flock gets to vote on whether we let your sorry ass back in or we kick you out on the streets. Nudge would let you in no problem, same goes for Gazzy. Iggy, on the other hand…you're going to have to work hard for his vote." I smirked, only beginning to imagine the punishment Iggy would put him through. Not only had Iggy lost the closest he had to a friend and a brother his age, Iggy had taken up residence in Fang's old room and he would hold on to that place kicking and screaming.

"I suppose Dylan wouldn't vote for me." Fang stated snarkily, most likely imagining Dylan opting for the _'off with his head_' route.

"Luckily for you, Dylan doesn't get a vote. He refused to go through the flock initiation process after Iggy and Gazzy were going to force him to eat my cooking."

"Oh, so that leaves you. Luckily, I already know your answer." He smirked, for the first time in what felt like a century using the special smirk he had reserved just for me.

"Is that so? And tell me, oh wise one, what's my answer?" My voice was dripping with sarcasm as I leaned slightly forward. There was a fire in my eyes that hadn't existed for a long time.

"Oh you'll say yes." He said it so knowingly, so self assured, that I couldn't hold back a scoff.

"Why is that?" I crossed my arms, challenging him like I always had. Ever since we were kids.

"Because even though things are bad, I still know one thing that will never change," The serious expression on his face turned into a smirk before my eyes, "You looooooove me this much."

He held his arms out wide as I gaped, not sure whether to scream or punch him. Could I do both?

"I can't believe you spent so much time away from us and you still came back an asshole." I screamed, my face heating up as my blood boiled. I rounded on him, prepared to draw blood.

He backed up a little, smiling openly. I would kill him and then have him stuffed so that I could punch him for all of eternity.

"Whoa, relax. You know I have my pocket knife with me. I could still carve our initials into a tree." He wiggled his eyebrows, hands still outstretched in case I decided to attack in the near future. Smart boy.

"Yeah, you do that." I retorted, "In the meantime, I'm going back inside to let the flock know I haven't killed you. Yet. If you really _are_ planning on sticking around, I'm letting you know now that I'm not going to forgive and forget. I'm prepared to make your life a living hell."

My threat seemed to completely unaffect him. He only stood there, staring at me with a small, genuine smile on his lips. His only response was,

"As you wish."

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**Aj: Anyone who understood the reference gets a cooke and my unwavering approval. I never really liked the reunion scene we got in Nevermore, or Nevermore in general. I always felt that Max was way too cool about him just popping up again and so I went with my version. Hope you liked it. Review and tell me what you thought and I'll see you guys next time!**

**-Aj.**


	2. Maximum Apocalypse

**Aj: Wow, thanks so much for the great response to this story! You guys blew me away! I'll get to answering reviews later, but I'm just going to warn that this one is a little bit angstier, mainly because of the prompt. Okay, here we go. **

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**Prompt: Max meets Fang in the middle of the zombie apocalypse. **

Where were you the day everything went to hell?

It used to be a common question to hear, every survivor interested in hearing stories of the past. Thinking of the past brought peace.

Max hadn't heard the question in a long time, so long that she almost missed the repetition of her answer. Maybe it was because it had been so long since she had seen a regular person. A living one, that is.

Speaking of that…

Max was sprawled out on the ground, her hair framing the forest earth as a zombie was hovering over her, preparing for the kill. She hadn't come close to death in a while. She had missed it. Snarling, she kicked her feet out, landing squarely on the zombie's chest and keeping it at bay. It flailed it's arms, mindlessly attempting to claw at her, to tear into her ripe flesh. The longer she resisted, the harder the zombie fought for its meal, struggling so hard that, for a moment, Max worried her foot would plunge into its decaying chest.

Her hands moved across the deadening grass and twigs in a flurry. In another life it would have looked like she was making snow angels. She needed her weapon, and she needed it fast.

_Come on_, she mentally screamed, her mind beginning to verge on what could only be described as panic. His hands were getting awfully close.

Using the sensitive skin of her palm, the physically young girl felt the ground, desperate to find her lucky stake.

Leaves? _No. _Twigs? _No._ Leftover arm? _Oops, definitely not._ More leaves, more dirt, _bingo_.

At the last possible second, Max felt her palm enclose around the cylindrical base of the smooth wood, just as the zombie broke free of its restraint. It tumbled after her, falling onto the girl's writhing form and locking it's large dead eyes on the tender flesh of her neck before…_crunch_.

An explosion of blood oozed all over Max, just after she had managed to impale the starving corpse, milliseconds away from her death.

Today she had survived. She wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad thing.

In a simpler time, just before the apocalypse hit, Max had been the weird girl at her college. She was only in her freshman year, but had been instantly cast away from her peers, forced to live in isolation. She was fine with that, she preferred to be alone.

That is, until there was nobody around to flaunt off her loneliness to. Everybody that had turned Max away, labeling her as a freak, were dead. She supposed that she should at least be a little sad, but the irony was too overwhelming for her to think much about those who now either walked the earth as soulless monsters or lay scattered in pieces as the remnants of a meal. Max had survived. That was all that mattered.

In the beginning, survival was all that mattered. Four hundred days later after the living population had been reduced to an endangered species, she began to wonder what the point of surviving was if nobody cared. Sure, she was a big winner for being strong and clever enough to outwit the brainless corpses. But who cared? The zombies sure didn't. She was only one small meal and, to be honest, there wasn't much meat on her at that point to devour.

Her entire life Max had proven herself, proven that she could beat those who doubted her. In the apocalypse, there weren't many people left to gloat to. Unless she wanted to try striking up a conversation with one of the zombies loitering around.

Calming her frazzles nerves, she wrinkled her nose as she pushed the corpse off of her, doing all she could not to whimper at all of the leftover blood that had gushed onto her and continued to leak down her arms.

While she had never been a girly girl, she still wanted to throw up at the gory display.

As soon as she made her way over to a nearby bush, that was exactly what she did.

After Max had finished emptying her stomach of the scarce food she had scavenged, she wanted—no, needed—food. Pronto. In this world, she couldn't afford to pass out from hunger or dehydration. Judging by the dampness of the earth as Max continued to move west, a source of water couldn't be too far off. She would get water and wash off the thick and sticky crimson from her pores to avoid getting infected herself. Then, Max decided, she could search for food.

Or die in the process.

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It had been about two days, give or take, and she still hadn't found any sustenance. She had stumbled precariously in the dense forest, probably resembling a zombie as her stomach begged for food. Along with her growing hunger, Max could feel despair growing within. By the second day, she truly believed that she would die. Not by a fight to the death, not in a blaze of glory, but because she couldn't find any freaking barriers to eat.

That is, until by some unforeseen luck, she had stumbled upon a camp. Warily, she crouched down behind a bush, low enough that her blonde snarls wouldn't give herself away. She, Maximum Ride, had stumbled upon a human. Like, the living and breathing kind. Her first reaction was to reveal herself and beg for a few sweet morsels of food, maybe striking up a conversation if she was lucky.

What she ended up doing was cowering behind a three foot tall shrub, scanning the campsite for movement. She would wait until the perfect moment to raid the camp and steal all she could carry.

Once upon a time Max never would have resorted to something as low and underhanded as stealing. Then the apocalypse came and the world went to shit.

Max narrowed her eyes, watching the roaring campfire crackle, twisting and dancing towards the sky in streamers of orange and red. There were a few logs conveniently located around the fire and a single beige tent, large enough for two or three was set up a few feet away, just far enough to avoid catching on fire. Briefly, she noticed there were many patches on the tent that had to be repaired crudely with duct tape, but was otherwise in perfect condition. There was one set of footprints at the campsite, but they seemed to go back and forth, like the owner paced often.

"Well it's not everyday you see a pretty girl in a bush." A deep voice remarked behind her. Oh shit.

She spun around, her hair whipping behind her, as she reached for her stake. Where she would usually find it attached to her belt, her hand only grasped an empty pocket of air. Where the hell—

"Looking for this?" The same cocky voice mocked her from above. Growling, she looked up at the man she had been planning on stealing from.

He wasn't nearly as lean as she had figured a survivor would be, especially on his own. He was well muscled with olive toned skin, which he mostly covered up with a black hoodie, surprisingly not at all stained with blood. His hoodie was the same shade as his raven black hair, but not as dark as his obsidian eyes. He was attractive, Max had to give him that. But even after so long of being alone, that didn't matter. Why? Because he had _her_ stake.

"Give me back Mr. Pointy!" She snarled, lunging for the sharpened wood. He dodged her attack, an amused smirk resting on his lips as he evaded her clumsy footwork, as graceful as a swan.

"Mr. Pointy? Seriously?" He sneered, stepping backward as she clawed at the hand that had her weapon, held carelessly.

"Listen twinkletoes, its my weapon and I want it back." She grunted, jumping at him once more. And missing.

"A weapon? That's just sad. It's a stick." He spun the stick like a baton, obviously not seeing the danger in the slab of wood.

"No, it's a weapon. Its saved my life against the zombies more times than I can count. Now hand it over, or else." She held out her hand, glaring fiercely at the taller man. He glanced at her dirt stained palm thoughtfully, before laughing in her face. How someone that had lasted so long in the apocalypse could laugh with a total stranger was beyond her.

"I thought stakes were for vampires."

"It's sharp and pointy. It works for zombies too." Not willing to waste her energy on chasing him, Max resorted to crossing her arms like a child and staring him down. She was beginning to miss being alone. Why couldn't this guy have just let her raid his camp in peace? How come he just _had_ to find her and annoy her to death? Selfish, that's what he was.

"Okay then, slayer. How would you like some dinner? I just went hunting and got some rabbit." He offered, tossing her stake to the ground. It landed inches from her toes, the sharp end piercing the soil. Max looked down at her stake, then back up to the confusing enigma of a stranger.

"You do know I was just about to steal your supplies, right?" She asked dumbly, not willing to believe what she was hearing.

"Yup," He replied, popping the _p_, "I figured I either have two options. Shoot you before you have the chance to run or let you go and wake up to find all of my stuff gone. So I chose the third option."

Her eyebrows rose, her curiosity getting the better of her, "And that would be?"

"Doing a favor to the human race by not letting a pretty girl starve to death, of course."

* * *

"Do you always eat like this or have you just been starving longer than I thought?" Then man, who she had discovered was two years older than herself, remarked. She paused from her gorging, probably eating as messy as the zombies, to bat her chocolaty brown eyes innocently.

"Excuse me for enjoying my first time eating anything but berries since the outbreak." She retorted, wiping her messy palms on her jeans. His expression changed to one of horror.

"How have you bee eating just berries?" He spluttered. Max was sure if he had been drinking water he would have spit it out.

"Simple. I can hunt, but I can't cook worth a damn. Back in college I had to ask for help just to make Ramen," She shrugged, feeling slightly more relaxed with the crackling flames basking her in a cocoon of warmth, shielding her from the night's icy chill.

"College? Is that where you were when all of this went down?" He questioned, letting a genuine smile ghost his lips at her nostalgic expression. It had been too long since she'd been asked that question.

"Yeah," She answered, her eyes traveling to meet her shoes as guilt infected her, "I was in my dorm the night it happened. My boyfriend, Dylan, had just proposed the night before and I turned him down. When I heard a knock at the door, I assumed it was him. It was, but it wasn't. He was a zombie, the first I had ever seen. When he attacked me, I freaked and thought he was just angry about the rejection. I somehow managed to lock him in the bathroom and ran. It wasn't until I ran into more zombies that I figured out what was going on."

"You didn't kill him?" He asked, his gaze locked solely on me.

"I did, but not then. It wasn't until two days later that I shot him after he had made a meal of my brother, Iggy." Max clutched my knees closer to her chest, finding it suddenly much harder to breathe.

The stranger's eyes darkened, empathetic for her loss and the losses he had undoubtedly had as well. He was smart enough not to say sorry. He knew as well as she did that an apology from a stranger was the day they admitted things were only going to get worse.

"My name's Fang." He said simply, extending his arm for her to shake. She looked at it as if he were offering her poison.

"I want to trust you. I've found that when a person puts a face to a name, it becomes much harder to kill them." He elaborated, his arm still outstretched.

She smirked, his logic resonating with her, even with her paranoia induced sense of unease. Could she really trust him?

"Fang? How'd you get stuck with that one?" She snickered, watching as he only rolled his eyes.

"If you must know, one of the older guys in my group, Jeb, gave it to me a while back. Thought it was fitting after I cut a lame brain's jaw out," Max tried not to laugh at the term _lame brain_ as he jeered, "Besides, at least I _have_ a name."

"I have a name!" She defended, "If you must know, its Max. Maximum Ride."

"Well, _Maximum Ride_, its nice to meet you. I'm grateful you didn't rob me."

Amused, she shook his hand.

"It's a pleasure, Fang. It's a shame we won't be seeing each other much longer, its been nice talking to someone." She sighed, folding her hands once more as she observed Fang's surprised expression.

"Oh, and what's keeping you from staying? We make a hell of a team." He argued, leaning in closer to her, the fire's glow making his dark orbs appear ten shades lighter.

"I'm more of a loner. It got tiring having to watch people getting picked off one by one." She replied grimly.

"But what if we didn't die? Two is stronger than one." He argued, his eyes roaming over her form for a signal of her giving in. He wanted her to stay, that Max could tell.

"Fang, you're a nice guy, but I'm surprised you've survived this long. There are no _buts_ when the world is hell on earth. Everything ends in death. Every choice and decision has the possibility of dying." Max chastised, not even caring how bitter she sounded.

"It was like that before the apocalypse, life has always been like that. There's always been the chance of dying, but nobody seems to pay much attention until a corpse tries to eat them." He argued, daring Max to argue.

"Well frankly, the mortality rate has risen quite a bit since corpses started eating people. We're all going to die, it doesn't matter whether we're together or alone." Max was stubborn, refusing to let Fang win an argument against her.

"Better than dying alone." He shot back, still challenging her, just like he had since they met. This time, Max had no witty comeback. Her vault of endless sarcasm had been drained, now replaced with the thought of Fang's offer. She could stay. Maybe she could even learn what it felt like to be alive again.

But could she trust him?

After ten minutes of silence, the dark haired man stood up from the log, making his way toward the oversized tent.

"I'm going to get some sleep, you should too. I don't suppose you want to join me?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. Her scoff served as her answer. He shrugged, obviously having no regrets.

Turning back, he said, "Good night."

"Sleep well." She returned.

"We'll probably be dead by morning." They finished in unison. The chant had become a universal language to all the survivors.

He nodded, pleased before tossing her a sleeping bag.

"How do you know I won't leave?" She asked suspiciously. After always being an outcast, ostracized in a population of the living, his openness towards the blonde was a foreign concept.

"You won't. You may have survived this world by closing yourself off, but I've found that the only way to survive is to never stop believing in a person's humanity. The day I refuse to trust will be the day they win." He spoke with such conviction that Max almost felt ashamed of herself for doubting him. Almost.

"And what if I left?" She challenged.

"Oh, I'd find you." He spoke with a confidence Max had only been able to fake. With that answer, Fang retreated inside of his tent, leaving Max alone with her thoughts, comforted by the lullaby of the crackling fire.

Maybe she could find a home here. Maybe she could be happy to be alive once again. Maybe, just maybe, she could stop running.

Max was gone by morning, stealing all of the supplies she could carry.

When Fang woke up the next morning, he wasn't fooled by the ethereal glow of sunrise. He knew something was wrong the second he woke up, but he didn't know what.

Upon exiting the tent, his questions were answered. The only sign Max had been there at all was the stake, Mr. Pointy, impaled into the earth inches away from his toes and the lingering whisper of betrayal on his breath.

He could have been angry, resorting to frustration over trusting the thief. He could have unleashed his fury onto the empty world and destroyed whatever he could spare. He could have sunken to the ground, finally losing his hope in humanity.

No, he didn't do any of those. He merely smiled, leaning down to pick up her weapon of choice.

He wasn't worried; he knew this wasn't the end of their journey.

He would find her.

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**Aj: Nope, nope, you can't hurt me. I warned you guys at the beginning, therefore I'm invincible. So there. I'm still debating over whether this part will have a second part. Let me know what you guys thought. And about half of you guys caught the reference in last chapter, so let's see how many of you guys catch the reference in this one. **

**Let me know if you guys have any prompts and I'll see you guys later! **

**-Aj.**


	3. Let's Go Fly A Kite

**Aj: Okay, I think all of you wanted a sequel to the last prompt, and I don't blame you. That was cruel. But that will come later. For now, here's a bit of a happier oneshot requested by angelmax11. Hope you like it!**

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**Prompt: Kite Flying**

The grass was a thick shade of green, the sky was a brilliant baby blue, and the sun was shining down upon the flock without a cloud in the sky. I guess that should mean that I was happy to be outside in the warm spring air. But I would be lying if I said I was. It was an absolute nightmare.

Sure, we weren't being catapulted with erasers, but this alternative was much, much worse.

We were flying kites.

"Remind me why we have to go to all this effort to make kites and then fly them when we have wings and can fly ourselves." I drawled, lying face up in the meadow Angel, the manipulative little demon, had dragged us to.

Angel turned around to face where I was currently basking in the sun, "Because my friends from the school in Virginia wouldn't shut up about flying kites and now if I can't fly one I'll die!"

Ugh. It was a wonder peer pressure could affect her so much when she's faced actual life or death situations.

"Max! You promised we could fly kites! You pinky swore!" Nudge added, siding against me. That had been happening more and more frequently lately and I didn't like it one bit.

"Can't back down on a pinky promise, Maxie." Iggy chimed in, grinning devilishly.

"Tough talk coming from the boy who pinky promised not to add any bombs onto his kite," his mouth dropped open in surprise, "Iggy, just because _you _can't see the bomb on the bottom, doesn't mean the rest of us can't."

I used my forearms to push myself into a sitting position as Iggy kicked his canvas kite behind him, red and blue wires sticking out from the underbelly.

"Whatever Max, you can be a party pooper if you want, but we're ready to test these babies out." Gazzy cackled, beginning to take off at a run, his poorly made kite trailing behind him.

I rolled my eyes as the others cheered and ran off, racing down the meadow with their over decorated (and in one case, over explosive) kites. Crossing my legs, I silently counted the speeding forms. 1...2...3...4...where was five?

"Yo." I jumped about a foot in the air, before whipping around. Fang.

"Are you ever going to stop doing that?" I hissed.

"Are you ever going to stop yelling at me for it?" He countered, a barely there smirk gracing his lips as he sat down beside me.

"No." I grumbled.

"Then no." I whacked him in the arm.

He flinched, only for a second, but it was enough to satisfy me.

We sat in silence for the next few minutes, enjoying each other's company in a way we had done since we were kids. He was tugging on the grass while I analyzed our surroundings. If erasers were going to pop out, I would be the first to know.

"They don't blame you, you know. They understand." Fang broke the silence, turning to look at me.

"Huh?" I didn't even attempt to mask my confusion, now pausing from my observation of the meadow to look at him.

"They don't blame you for being so against flying kites. They know that you aren't trying to ruin their fun." He said

"Really?"

"Yeah," he answered truthfully, "They know that you don't want to fly kites because you can't work a kite."

"_What_!" I screeched, probably loud enough for all of the flock to hear me. Fang held a straight face, but his eyes were practically _glowing _with amusement.

"Sorry, Max. But if _i_ couldn't fly something as simple as a _kite_, I would be embarrassed too. It's understandable that you wouldn't want to look like an idiot, well...more of an idiot, in front of the flock." Oh he was _so_ dead. Deader than dead. He was dead times infinity.

I would kill him so many times he wouldn't remember what life felt like.

"I can too fly a kite! Hell, i could outfly you anytime, anywhere." I defended, the anger rushing to my head before I could think about what I was saying. How did I know if I could beat him at flying a kite? I had never even flown one before!

Then again, neither had Fang.

"Careful what you say, Max. Last chance to back out of certain doom." He taunted, only baiting me more into destroying him. He may be my best friend, but he was going to feel my wrath.

"Aww. Is Fang afraid to lose? Because that's exactly what's going to happen." I taunted, leaning in closer to his face.

He paused, his eyes flickering to the shortened distance between us, before recomposing himself.

"You're on, Ride."

Grinning at the challenge, I hopped up from my sitting position, snatching the mangled kite I had crudely put together and taking off in a run at the same time he did.

Somehow I imagined a picturesque scene where the diamond shaped cloth billowed in the air behind me, magically drifting towards the heavens as I ran. It only took five minutes for me to realize how wrong I was.

_OOF!_ I fell to the ground for the second time, my legs being strangled in the vice like grip the kite's string had managed to wrap. As I struggled angrily with the thin string that wouldn't come off, sitting on my butt pathetically with the kite tossed a few feet away from me, I heard laughter.

Fang was standing above me, trying not to let his laughter interrupt his already soaring kite, a black dot amongst the rich blue. Jerk.

I don't know why I continued to put up with him.

"Oh shut it!" I grumbled, finally managing to untangle myself from the heap on the ground. His laughter subsided, transforming into a mere smirk. I tried not to pay attention on how the sunlight made his raven hair glisten, and instead on how angry I was at the doofus.

"I hate to say I told you so, Max, but—"

"This isn't over! I can still fly a kite way better than your little show." I interrupted, crossing my arms defiantly.

"Max, there are twigs caught in your kite. My kite is up in the air and the closest yours has gotten off the ground is when you tripped on it. I think I win." I looked away from his superior smirk, turning my eyes to look up at the wide open sky. I had a way to win.

"Nope, not yet. See ya later, loser." With that, I unfurled my powerful wings from beneath my windbreaker and, with a powerful gust of wind, soared straight into the air, the gnarled kite flowing behind me. My eyes narrowed in determination, willing my wings to beat faster, faster, faster…until…

I overcame Fang's kite within seconds, only going higher and higher up through the air.

It was a minute before I stopped, beating my wings to hover above the meadow, looking down at the specks below me.

1…2…3…4…but where was five?

"You cheated." A voice came from behind me. Startled, I dropped about a foot in the air before recovering to face him. Fang's wings fanned behind him, the very image of grace and vengeance merged into one package.

"I won." I retorted, staring him down, daring to prove him wrong.

"No, you cheated because you knew you couldn't win." He drifted closer, refusing to give up. Most of our competitions since we were kids ended in a stalemate, but that didn't mean we ever stopped trying.

"The kite is in the air. Nobody ever said specifically there was only one way to do it. I merely used my skill sets to my advantage." I stuck my tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes.

Whatever. I still won and he couldn't unjustify my justification. So there.

"No matter how you put it, you still cheated."

"Oh yeah, well what are you going to do about it?" I challenged. He grinned devilishly.

"You'll see."

* * *

**Aj: See? It was happier! Not much to say this time, so let me know what you guys think and don't be afraid to give me prompts in the reviews. See you guys next time! **

**-Aj**


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